Intimate
by darkwinggirl
Summary: A raid in Drakkon's universe ends disastrously for the Pink Ranger. In the aftermath, Kim finds out who her friends are.
1. Billy

It was Billy who found her. Sweet, innocent, awkward Billy, who fumbled the most basic social interactions time and again. Who could detect amino acid signatures two galaxies left and three dimensions down, but was constitutionally incapable of asking out a girl without stammering himself into a seizure.

This was the person who finally found Kim on the stone floor of Drakkon's palace, naked and bleeding, shivering, half-conscious.

Bless his heart, Kim would later think, when she was _able_ to think. He handled it like a pro.

He was in morph, helmet on, but Kim knew it was really him – _her_ Billy, not the Billy of Drakkon's world. The Billy of Drakkon's world was dead; the triceratops morpher was safely hidden in the Coinless camp. There could be no other Blue Ranger here.

He'd been eagerly searching for her, calling her name in that wavery voice which didn't match the strong lines of his costume, but when he finally looked around the pillar that hid her, she saw a little jolt go through him, and his voice died. For a full two seconds, he didn't move. Kim could practically hear the gears whirring in that massive brain of his.

Though she'd prayed for rescue for weeks, she had also dreaded this part of it, this inevitable moment. The moment when someone else knew.

She pulled her knees in tighter. Tried to make herself smaller.

"Billy!" Jason's electronic voice buzzed through the chamber. "You're closest to her last known location. Anything?"

 _Beep._ Billy turned off his communicator.

Another second of silence passed.

Kimberly stared at her toes. She had no idea what was supposed to happen now. She didn't want to talk, _couldn't_ answer questions. She just wanted to go home.

And Billy seemed to get it. He disappeared from view briefly – Kimberly closed her eyes, wondering if he'd been unable to deal and had run for help – but in a moment she was wrapped warmly in heavy cloth.

Billy had torn down a curtain for her. The only cloth available in this particular part of the palace. It was velvet, dusty but thick and soft. Almost instantly, Kim felt herself relaxing into it. It was the first comfort she'd had in days.

Billy picked her up without effort; the Ranger strength made the weight of a seventeen-year-old girl meaningless. Kim felt like a baby in his arms, and perversely found herself stifling a giggle at the thought.

 _I'm in shock_.

"Kim, you're in shock. I know you want to rest, but you need to stay awake a few more minutes."

She rested her head on his shoulder, sank deeper into the velvet blanket he'd wrapped her in. She'd never felt so safe.

"Kimberly!"

"I'll try," she attempted to say. She found her mouth was dry, so dry that she was unable to swallow. As she choked and coughed, Billy ran smoothly. Chamber walls flew past Kim, accompanied by pillars, portraits, sculptures – why had Drakkon kept the sculpture of Rita? He'd killed her, hadn't he? Rita, along with the Jason and Billy of this world, and endless millions of others.

A cold liquid sensation uncoiled in her stomach. The illusion of safety faded.

"He's coming back," she gasped, managing a little more volume this time.

"We know. It's under control."

"He has my coin. And my morpher."

"All accounted for."

"He killed Skull, he found out about the spying– "

"We're aware. Saba has been remarkably useful in providing us with empirical data regarding Drakkon's activity in this universe. He's also assisted in fabrication of a teleportation field generator."

 _Who's Saba?_ thought Kim. Her disorientation was getting worse.

She could hear the battle now. Explosions, the crunch of Zord feet, Zack's enthusiastic laughter, the piercing vibrations of Blade Blasters. She could localize none of it; her senses were shot after days without decent sleep. A new fear gripped her – that this was all a dream, or a nightmare, and she'd wake up to Drakkon's laughter.

She tried to clutch at Billy's arms to make sure he was real, but the cloth she was wrapped in restricted her range of motion.

"In other words," Billy continued, "We have a way out."

Drakkon's voice slithered through Kim's memory. **_Fight all you want, Pink. There's no way out._**

Kim squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face beneath Billy's chin. His insistent reminders that she needed to keep herself awake a few more minutes seemed to come from a distance. She felt as if she were deep underwater.

The rest of the rescue felt like it was over in a minute, though Kim could tell by the change in scenery when she opened her eyes that Billy must have been running at least an hour. They were deep in a rocky forest. The explosions were far away and quiet.

The teleportation field generator Billy had spoken of looked appropriately post-apocalyptic: it appeared to be made of the remains of cars and air conditioners, and maybe a few pieces of Zord. These pieces comprised an ugly circle, perhaps six feet in diameter, jutting precariously up out of a rock formation.

This rusty, jagged perimeter housed a pool of white light, humming with energy.

Billy's work, for sure. He'd probably thrown it together in a couple of hours, Kim thought wryly. He was the real deal, a genius inventor like the world had never seen – practically wasted as a Power Ranger.

But she apparently couldn't trust her own vision any longer. Floating next to the technological miracle was something much stranger – a sword? A white sword with a curved blade. It was upside-down, and its hilt had the head of a white tiger carved into it.

Kim could have sworn it spoke.

"Well done, Ranger."

"I've lost comms," Billy said. "Tell the others that Kim's safe, that we'll be in the med bay. They're good to evacuate."

"You're certain the field will hold?"

"Affirmative."

 _Zap._ _Crack_. A painless, if noisy, flash of white light startled Kim briefly, and then they were through.

The Command Center felt tiny and warm. Kim wanted to press her bare feet into its familiar carpet, but Billy had her out of the control room and into the med bay before Zordon, or even Alpha 5, could comment – though naturally Alpha's beleaguered wails for an update followed them until Billy firmly shut the door in his face.

"He'll be fine," said Billy.

Kim, still wrapped in her velvet curtain, found herself lying on a cushy black platform, holding a bottle of water with a straw sticking out of it. The cold water was revitalizing, and she was soon able to sit all the way up with Billy's assistance. After Billy released her and removed his helmet – and carefully avoided her eyes, turning immediately to a control panel – Kim again became aware of her nakedness. She found the energy to pull the fabric around herself more tightly.

Fortunately, the command center tech didn't require her to show anything.

A few laser-like lights whooshed over her: scanners. A paper readout spewed from a computer into Billy's hands, which, Kim noticed, were just slightly shaking.

"Uh, mostly good news," he said. "The damage is largely superficial. Um. That means surface-level."

"Oh, I know. You're not the first person to call me superficial," Kim said. She hadn't exactly meant it as a joke, but it came out that way, and when Billy gave a surprised little smile, she found herself smiling too.

It was a huge relief. Somehow she had thought that after… this… there wouldn't be much smiling and joking in her life anymore.

"Um, so," said Billy, "Hey, keep drinking, you're significantly dehydrated… There's evidence of two semi-recent concussions, but you're past the danger point, so no treatment should be necessary. One broken metatarsal and phalange – that's – it basically means your toe, but the fractures aren't displaced, in fact, they're mostly re-fused, which means you won't…"

Kim saw Drakkon's boot once again weighing down on her foot. He'd smiled his weirdly canine smile as he'd applied more and more pressure. His face had been inches from hers.

Billy's voice was picking up speed. "…multiple hematoma, which sounds serious, but it essentially means bruising. I can relieve the pressure with a needle drain if it becomes too painful. But time should take care of most of it."

He hesitated.

"As for the… the bite marks… and the other places where your skin is abraded, I can… I can treat those here… um… it's just a topical antiseptic and maybe a few spots where you'll need a prismatic suture, which is virtually painless and less likely to lead to scarring than traditional stitches…but… you might prefer… I don't know, perhaps for your…um…psychological health, it's entirely possible and understandable that you might…want…"

He took off his glasses and attempted to clean them on his Ranger outfit. When that was unsuccessful, he removed a glove and used it to polish them.

Kim thought about telling him to put the helmet back on, since it seemed to help him communicate, but she restricted herself to, "Go ahead, Billy, you're doing great."

"Oh. Thank you. I'm trying to say…you might want to go to a hospital for treatment. But it's not necessary. I could treat you here."

"Then why would I want to go to a hospital?"

"Because. You might prefer a professional. A stranger. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with me doing… I'd have to look at the wounds, that's all."

Oh.

She wasn't proud of the fact that her first instinct was _No way_.

How silly. A regular hospital was a terrible idea; for sure they didn't know half of what Billy did about science, and they'd charge money, and there would be questions – Kim was a minor, they'd probably have to call the police, and then what? She'd have to face her parents… They'd probably fight in the hospital room over whose fault this was. Endless trouble, no rest, no peace.

And of course she trusted Billy. Hell, he'd already seen her naked, what did it matter if he looked a little closer?

Still. It did take Kim a couple of deep breaths before she was able to manage, "I'd rather not go to a hospital."

"Okay." He blinked, nodded, and put his glasses back on.

 _He's as nervous as you are_ , Kim thought. _Be cool. Try to make him comfortable._

She was okay for the first half of the treatment. The deep bite wound on her right breast had become inflamed, and the cream Billy carefully applied soothed the burning sensation. For the two deepest tooth marks, he used what looked to Kim like an ear-piercing gun; it turned out to shoot a tiny fiber-optic web, Spider-man-style, across the opening of the wound and pull it shut with only the tiniest unpleasant pinch. It was so fascinating, Kim briefly forgot her situation.

Billy worked quickly across her upper body, cleaning and closing tiny wounds on her back and arms. It was all clinical, and they didn't exchange many words.

But the worst had to come eventually.

Billy said, "Sorry, I need you to… to lie down…" and Kim did. She closed her eyes and spread her legs no farther than was absolutely necessary. Billy worked in silence. It barely hurt at all, just a sting here and there. Probably five minutes. She started crying the first minute in, and he didn't comment, but when he was done, he sat her up and let her sob into his shoulder.

It wasn't quite as comforting as she wanted it to be. He was still morphed, so his arm and shoulder were hard as granite. It was a bit like crying onto a statue, albeit one covered in cloth. And Billy didn't appear fully comfortable either; it seemed he couldn't place his hands anywhere with confidence, and his hug was awkward and incomplete, like he was trying not to hurt her.

She wanted a smothering bear hug, but there was no way she was going to ask him for one. He'd given her enough today.

It turned out he wasn't out of favors, though. When she was through the worst of her crying fit, he sent her into the bathroom to take a shower, and when she came back, she found a stack of neatly folded clothes waiting for her. He had apparently teleported into her room at her mom's house to get them.

He looked a little offended when she laughed out loud, and she had to explain that the thought of the Blue Ranger going through her underwear drawer was just too much.

He sighed and unmorphed. Kim suddenly loved his stupid overalls and baggy T-shirt.

He'd done better with her clothes than his own. He didn't need to be a fashionista; he had a good memory, and in addition to a set of pajamas, he'd chosen an outfit Kim had worn several times. Even found the shoes and socks to go with it. She wouldn't be wearing both shoes, though. Billy had also brought a stabilizing boot for her broken foot, essentially a cast that could be taken on and off at will. It was a big black sports-equipment looking monster, and Kim resolved not to wear it.

As she dressed in the pajamas behind a panel – God, it seemed so silly to worry about modesty now – Billy gave her the update.

The team was back. Safe. Definitely _not_ murdered by Drakkon, he emphasized when she questioned him, and they'd even managed to get Kim's morphing tools back.

Too good to be true.

They wanted to see her, but Billy had told them she needed eight hours in the quantum stabilizer for neutron realignment due to delta radiation poisoning she'd suffered in Drakkon's palace.

"What? Poisoning? Eight hours? Why didn't you mention-?! I just want to sleep…"

"You can, Kimberly. I made all that up. We don't even _have_ a quantum stabilizer."

Billy brought her to a suite she'd never known about – the Command Center was much bigger than she'd thought – with military-style bunk beds and a fridge stocked with what appeared to be astronaut food.

"It's in case we need to stay here long term, like in the event of nuclear fallout. The food is better than it looks, I promise."

He made sure she had plenty of blankets and pillows, gave her an awkward half-hug again, and started to leave.

At the doorway, he paused and turned, and she didn't like the set of his shoulders.

"Kim."

"Billy."

She was spent, desperate for sleep, but it turned out she had enough strength left to be scared into alertness by the pain in Billy's eyes.

"Jason has your morpher and coin. He'll probably want to give them to you when you wake up, and I don't know if I'll be here then. I've got to sleep, too, and with the Morphin Grid breaking apart, Alpha will probably put me to work right away, so in case I'm not around tomorrow, I just wanted to, uh, warn you…"

Kim stared. She didn't prompt him.

"Probably, in your condition… I mean… do you know that you're… Do you know what condition you're in?" His eyes flicked down her torso.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She'd known for three weeks. Drakkon had told her.

"I don't think morphing is a good idea. Uh, for the baby. Before you try it, we should talk to Alpha about it, see if he thinks there could be side effects. Okay?"

"Yes, Doctor Cranston."

"Heh. Okay. Uh. That's all."

 _My hero_ , she thought as his silhouette – square and floppy in his nerd outfit – filled the doorway and then disappeared.

Kim realized she'd forgotten to thank him.


	2. Jason

Jason, for all his work to cultivate a strong-and-silent-type persona, was easy to read. He had a ridiculous tell for stress: The more stressed he was, the harder he crossed his arms.

When Kim woke up surrounded by breakfast in bed and her friends (minus Billy), Jason was the furthest away, and his arms were crossed so hard he was practically hugging himself. He was also the only one who wasn't smiling.

He knew, for sure. The others, Kim saw, didn't.

Trini, who quickly joined Kim in the bed, helped sit her up, and began shoveling waffles into her mouth, was full of the energy of relief: she couldn't stop telling Kim how they'd thought she was dead, and how happy she was to have her best friend back, and how she couldn't wait to get Kim up shopping again – they hadn't had a smoothie at Ernie's bar in ages, and she just couldn't stand missing her so badly. She reminded Kim of a lanky puppy whose owners have gotten home. She was radiant with real joy. Kim thought there had never been anyone quite as perfectly beautiful as Trini.

Zack, just as energetic and smiling just as broadly, but trying to keep cool, told most of their story, complete with demonstrations and sound effects, starting with how the mission had gone: Okayish. They got two Power Coins back: Kimberly's and the other Jason's, which meant Drakkon's sentry forces were one third depleted. However, Drakkon wasn't the biggest threat the multiverse had ever faced for nothing, and there had been a terrible casualty cost among the Coinless, including Other Zack.

"That means Coinless me is the only original Ranger they have left," Trini put in sadly.

(That wasn't true, Kim knew. Other Kim was still in Drakkon's world and under his control – totally twisted, brainwashed beyond repair. She mostly spent her time killing good Rangers. Probably the same fate that would have awaited Kim if her friends hadn't saved her.)

Then there was Tommy.

Tommy wasn't quite as boisterous as Trini and Zack – maybe partially because of all the Drakkon talk, which was, in a totally unfair and inaccurate way, talk about himself, and maybe because he, as the sole Dragonzord pilot, had been working harder and longer than the others, and had been more worried about Kim for the past month.

Still, Kim didn't see anything overly significant in his smile, his hug, his kiss on her cheek, and his whisper – she wished he wouldn't whisper, Drakkon had done that a lot – that she didn't know how good it was to see her again.

She nodded and smiled as wide she could. Her voice came out surprisingly normal when she said, "You too. I missed you too."

Kim saw Jason watching this interaction carefully. Saw his arm muscles tighten.

Damn it. She needed to talk to him alone.

"But what about you, Kim?" Zack said.

"What _about_ me?"

"You gonna tell us what happened to you? We've been off having adventures, you have any good ones? Or were you just waiting for us in a cell? Did you Damsel in Distress us?"

In any other group of friends, Kim thought, this would be a totally unreasonable and insensitive question, but it really wasn't for a Power Ranger. How many times had each of them been captured? Usually they were dealing with aliens and magic. Capture didn't mean torture; it meant you came back talking about the weird contents of a space mummy's stomach, or what a hell of a fight you had with Goldar in the Dark Dimension (you always won the fight, because if you hadn't, you wouldn't be back), or what it was like to be temporarily shrunk or powdered or liquefied (not as bad as you might think!)…

Capture stories were often the best.

They'd all been through it a dozen times, and as far as Kim knew, none of them had yet come out of capture traumatized or pregnant.

None of them had been captured by a human psychopath, either.

"Zack," came Jason's authoritative, too-calm voice, "I think we've worn her out enough for now. She can tell her story another day."

"I _am_ still pretty tired," Kim said truthfully.

"Not back in the game yet, huh?" said Zack. "Billy said you'd be down for a while. Delta radiation! I never even heard of it. He also said we should leave you alone, but we had to see you, make sure you were okay! You don't mind, right?"

She didn't mind. She loved it. She loved seeing Zack bouncing with life and enthusiasm, and Trini's glow, and Jason's concern, and Tommy…

Well, Tommy was giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze and leaning in close, letting her feel his protective presence, like a good boyfriend should. Kim found herself unable to process that right now. She didn't hate it, but…

 _Everything's different._

"You _are_ okay, right, Kim?" Tommy asked.

Kim searched the room for an answer. She knew it was a few seconds too long before she said, "I'm fine. But I'll be better when I've got my hair dryer and makeup back."

"You got it!" Zack was on his feet, always ready for action.

"But," added Kim, "For now, I could use some more sleep. Billy said I had two concussions and a broken foot. And I'm dehydrated. So… I've been better. And I'm a little confused. Was there a talking sword?"

As the group's laughter rose, Jason picked up his cue beautifully. "You heard her, guys. She needs more rest. We'll save the Saba story for Ernie's. Let Alpha take care of her for now."

"Where _is_ Alpha?" asked Kim.

"Hanging with Billy. I'll get him," said Jason. Zack picked up the remains of Kim's breakfast, and Jason expertly ushered the group out of the room after each of them had given Kim a hug and another sweet reassurance of how much they'd missed her.

Tommy was the last. He searched her eyes, looking for God knew what, then gently kissed her lips. Kim took it with only the slightest stiffness, but she could tell he felt it.

"Guess we'll talk later, yeah?" he said, and she nodded.

 _At least he's got an inkling now_ , she thought. _It'll be easier to tell him if he already suspects._

Jason had left before Tommy, but Kim saw him waiting just outside the doorframe, pretending to start moving down the hallway, but not making any progress.

 _He's making sure Tommy leaves_.

Tommy did leave.

Kim had time to brush her teeth and get presentable – if only Billy had remembered a headband! – before Alpha 5 appeared as promised. Jason was with him.

"Kim-ber-leeee!" cried the android, and Kim got the Trini treatment all over again. Alpha was significantly smaller than Trini, but his hugs were far more enthusiastic and painful.

"Easy, Alpha," Jason said. "She's not at a hundred percent."

"I know! Apologies!"

"No worries, Alpha," said Kim. But she limped back over to the bed and sat down, already worn out.

"He told me about you," Jason said matter-of-factly. "Didn't mean to, but he saw the readings Billy took. Blurted it out because he was worried about you not being able to morph."

Alpha hung his saucer-shaped head.

Jason clapped him on the back and continued, "Luckily, I was the only one in the room with him at the time. I decided he shouldn't be around the team just yet, since he can't keep a secret, so I sent him to timeout."

"Have you talked with Billy?"

"Yeah, but he wouldn't give me much."

"He was great yesterday. Took good care of me. He should be a doctor."

Jason stood looking down at her in his power stance, arms still firmly - _frozenly_ crossed. Taking up space, flexing his muscles, but somehow projecting nervousness. He looked like he had a speech brewing, but it didn't come.

"You going to loom all day, or did you want to talk?" asked Kim.

Jason's brow furrowed. "It is Drakkon's, right?" he asked. "Not Tommy's?"

Kim found herself a little offended by the question, though she couldn't quite think why. "Does it matter?"

"Does to me."

She stared at him and he stared back at her. She tried to summon up the energy to be mad, but found she couldn't. She would have wanted to know, too, if she were him.

"It's Drakkon's."

Jason's frown softened. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Kim couldn't help noticing how _big_ he was. The mattress squashed away under his solid weight; the thin metal frame creaked in agony. How had Kim never noticed that one of her best friends was the freaking Hulk?

Drakkon was big. Much closer to Jason's size than Tommy's. Kim wasn't sure if it was a product of age or workouts – or maybe absorbing half the damn Morphin Grid just swelled you up, including the veins on your face.

Maybe she would always notice men's sizes now. Billy, Tommy, and Zack seemed taller to her now than they ever had. Maybe she was just finally aware of how small she was compared to them.

"I'm really sorry, Kim," said Jason.

"Thanks."

"What are you going to do?"

"You mean…"

Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out her morpher. The pterodactyl coin was back in place. He took a deep breath. "Alpha says-"

"You mustn't morph, Kim-ber-lee!"

Kim blinked at the pair of them. What an awful, hilariously mismatched team they were.

"Would it…" Jeez, how was she supposed to talk about this? Was she supposed to say "terminate the pregnancy"? "Kill the baby"? Neither of those felt like her, like her words or thoughts.

Jason helped her. "Yes. It would. Instantly, according to Alpha. And I'm not… I'm not pressuring you either way. It's just, we're in this fight, and I'm kind of the leader, and…" He ran his hand through his hair. "Are we down a Pink Ranger? That's why I need to know. I'm not trying to be up in your business."

"Megazord's just not the same without the chestplate, huh?"

"It's really not!" Jason said. He wiped his hands on his pants, and Kim realized he was much more nervous than he was trying to pretend. "We tried it in the Coinless universe, while you were…out of commission. The Black Dragon handed us our asses."

She thought of her beloved pterodactyl Zord. Of never flying it again.

Kim realized she was suffocating. Like, she needed to be out of this room. _Now._ She swung herself up, heard her own voice - strained and old-sounding – saying, "I need air!" and found herself halfway to the door in what felt like a time-jump. Her bad foot gave out, and she pitched forward, but didn't hit the ground. Jason was there, steady hands firmly clamped on her shoulders, lifting her back to a standing position.

The two of them stood, Kim panting and trying not to cry, while Alpha moaned, "Ay-yi-yi!" in the background.

"Alpha," said Jason, and the second word of the sentence came out in a much darker tone than Kim had heard from him before: " _Enough._ "

Alpha shut up.

Kim tried to turn back toward the bed, but her bad foot exploded with pain; she jumped and cursed.

Jason made one false start – he stepped towards Kim as if to pick her up, but it seemed he thought better of it. Maybe because of his own judgment, or maybe because Kim's breath hitched as he moved close.

He exited towards the med bay and came back holding a pair of decidedly normal-looking crutches. These had come from a Walgreens in Angel Grove, not from the planet of Eltar.

"Remember I had to use these last year?" Jason asked, kneeling in front of her to adjust the crutches to her height. "Aimed a fly kick at Zack, hit the support beam instead?"

Kim nodded.

"I was only out of the fight for a week. Hated it. Worst week since becoming a Ranger."

He handed her the crutches. "So I have an idea what you're feeling. Obviously not much of one, that was a stupid thing to say, but… Come on, let's get you some air."

A side exit door opened onto a scene that surprised Kim. She'd expected the high morning sun on the California desert in July. The desert was there, all right, but the sky was evening dark, heavy with monsoon clouds, and the ground was damp. There was a slight chill in the air.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Eighteen hours, twenty-nine minutes."

"Whoa, Alpha calculate that for you?"

Jason didn't answer.

"And how long were we gone? In the Coinless universe?"

"Six weeks, two days."

Not bad. Longer than she thought, but not so long they'd need to come up with a ridiculous explanation. The "summer camp" their parents had agreed to send them to had been supposed to last six weeks. They could explain away an extra weekend with driving or sightseeing. Their phones could have been lost in a lake. Thin, but not hopeless.

But the grid was still shattering. They'd need to work harder than ever in the coming months. And they couldn't afford to be down a Ranger.

Jason led Kim at a snail's pace a couple hundred yards from the Center, up a tiny hill with a chair-height drop-off. A cliffside view for cripples. He sat, letting his lower legs dangle, and she joined him after a brief wrestling match with the crutches.

The air really was refreshing. Crisp and rich. And the desert was in bloom.

"It's beautiful," Kim said.

"Yeah."

"Uncross your arms, Jason."

Grimacing, he worked himself into a more casual position. Then he pulled out her morpher. This time he handed it to her.

"It's yours," he said, "until you decide it's not. Okay?"

"Thanks. Do you think this is something we should ask Zordon about?"

"Nope." His tone wasn't cold, but didn't invite argument.

Off in the distance, lightning began to roll. Proving beyond all doubt that the job of Power Ranger had done a royal number on her, Kim found it reminded her of a Megazord fight. She wondered what it would be like to watch all the fights from here on at a distance. Never knowing if her wonderful friends, who stitched her wounds and served her waffles in bed at 7pm and adjusted her crutches, were okay.

The thought cut through her harder than she'd anticipated. If she'd been alone, she might have ugly-cried. But Jason was there, and she was causing him enough trouble.

She handed him back the morpher.

"I'm keeping the baby," she said.

"Because you're in love with Tommy."

"What? No. I mean…no." What a weird jump for him to make. It wasn't Tommy's kid. Drakkon wasn't Tommy. Tommy was the _last_ reason… Well, Jason couldn't know any of that.

"Sorry to have kept you in suspense or whatever," she said, "but I decided before. A few days ago."

"When you were still in Drakkon's palace?" Jason was staring hard at the middle distance. That was another Jason tell – when he was trying not to get worked up, he didn't make eye contact.

"Yeah. He has the same scanners we do. He told me I was pregnant right away. And… Listen, I know how this is going to sound. Like I'm stupid and being manipulated or whatever, and yeah, of course he was manipulating me, but I guess it worked, okay? Anyway, I'm pretty sure everything he said was the truth, so it doesn't matter why he said it. He told me…" She swallowed a stupid lump in her stupid rebellious throat. "He told me it's a boy."

As if drawn by the inexorable puppet strings of the gods, Jason's arms crossed themselves.

"And he told me all this stuff…like, with DNA scans, they can know what the kid is going to look like. He said he, the baby, would have my hair and my eyes, he'll look like me, and he's going to be tall – not like me, obviously – and strong and healthy and smart. Drakkon told me to picture him, and he was kind of making fun of me, but he told me to start thinking of names. And I did."

"Jesus, Kim."

"He's already a person to me."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," added Kim.

"Hey! Don't say that!" Jason hopped off the tiny cliff and began to pace in front of her. "I'm not mad at you, Kim, don't act like I am, okay? I'm already… I feel bad enough for letting - "

"Jason Lee Scott," said Kim, "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Well, I'm the leader, so everything that happens to my team is my fault, right?"

"Right. I forgot. Thanks, Obama."

He chuckled. The pacing stopped. Kim watched him gather the strength he needed to face her and make eye contact. It was a pretty magnificent sight.

"I don't know how I'm going to replace you," he said.

"Right. How could you possibly replace a short person who has no martial arts experience? Special skills include spending money and regretting spending money. Wanted: Someone to complain about helmet hair. Face it, Jase, you got lucky. If you had to lose one team member, I'm the one you can afford to l-"

He kissed her.

Kim had thought herself, by virtue of her alien superpowers and regular moon-witch related activities, desensitized to surprise. Yet somehow this, this small, obvious, ordinary thing that she could suddenly see coming in flaming, giant, screaming neon hindsight had her absolutely fucking thunderstruck.

It was a short kiss, but a damn good one. It left both her and Jason shaking. Kim gasped when he broke it off – she'd been kissing him back.

"This where I say I'm sorry?" said Jason. "I shouldn't have done that? The timing is terrible?"

He kissed her again.

God. His breath was clean, his tongue felt made for her mouth, his presence was everywhere, his hands were at her hips, pulling her towards him, and she _wanted_ it. She could feel her pulse through her whole body. It was an amplification of something she'd felt yesterday in Billy's arms: Safe, safe, safe, this man is safe, he's strong, he'll protect you, he'll keep you safe.

She had _never_ felt that with Tommy.

 _You're cheating on him_ , her conscience snapped.

 _Can you blame me?_

She managed to pull her face off Jason's for a second; he instantly began kissing his way down her neck.

"Jase," she said, "You know we can't – not here –"

"I know," he murmured. "Just kiss me back, Kim, please."

It started to rain. Gentle and warm.

She kissed him. And she wanted him, wanted to, right there in the damn desert, but as the throbbing in her ears became overwhelming, as his powerful hands became more insistent, kneading into the small of her back – as he settled himself between her legs, and she could feel his erection through his shorts, God, this was all happening so fast – reality sank in quickly for her.

"Careful," she gasped. "Careful, please, I'm injured – JASON!" The last word was a shriek of real fear and pain. He had grabbed her breast, right where her stitches were.

He stopped like a clock, open-mouthed, with the expression of a child who'd been unexpectedly smacked. Water streamed down his face. He was panting.

When he didn't say anything, she pulled her shirt collar down to show him the bite mark. In spite of Billy's treatment, it wasn't near finished healing. It was colorful and ugly.

She watched the reality of it settle on him. It landed mostly on his back; that was where he carried his tension. The muscles there bunched.

He carefully kissed the wound, then did his best to put her soaked top back in place.

Then he pulled her against him in a hard, thorough bodylock that she supposed was the lifetime martial artist version of a hug.

"How long have you felt like this, Jason?" she asked against his chest.

"Forever. Did you really not know?"

"That…?"

"That I'm in love with you?"

Kim pressed her face against him. He was solid. Made of strength.

"Because," Jason continued, "you're beautiful and perfect and funny and brave and fucking adorable."

He loosened his hold and pressed his forehead to hers. "So no more talk about you being easy to replace. You're not. You're my favorite. You understand? Say you understand."

"I understand."

"And I know Tommy's always gonna be there. In your life, in my life, it's my destiny, I guess. Always competing with Tommy Fucking Oliver. But no matter what you decide with him, I'm here. I love you. We all do."

She was crying again. Damn it. She wanted to be done crying.

He kissed her eyelids. Then he gathered up her crutches and let her lean on him as they stumbled back to the Command Center, half-blinded in the rain.


	3. Trini

Even before this last disaster of a mission, Kim had found herself leaning on Trini more than was probably healthy. Always needing to be around her, calling, texting, just being her shadow. Trini didn't seem to mind.

Trini was so _positive._ Sweetness personified. Daisies and daffodils and sunshine. Giving. Comforting. In other words, she was the polar opposite of the judgmental, yelling, wound-picking ogres Kim's parents had turned into over the course of their divorce. Kim sometimes felt like she couldn't have survived the divorce without the option of vampire-draining Trini's peaceful energy.

Not that Trini would ever view it that way. She appeared to enjoy being needed.

Kim knew that Trini was supposed to lead a Recycling Club meeting all evening, but when Kim sent a 7pm text for a rescue, Trini's yellow Mazda rolled up ten minutes later.

"Thanks," said Kim. She would normally have jumped in the window, but the boot on her broken foot forced her to use the car door. "You didn't have to."

"No, I did," said Trini. She looked up at Kim's dad's house. Roger Hart's angry voice was more than audible through the window. "Is he fighting with your mom?"

"Yeah, over Facetime. Mom's still in France. They're arguing over whose fault it is that I'm… that I turned out this way. Juvenile delinquent or whatever."

"Delinquent? Because you were gone two days longer than you planned?"

"My story didn't hold up."

"What," said Trini, "Didn't you explain to them that you spent the last month getting radiation poisoned in the dungeon of your space ranger boyfriend's older alternate universe evil twin?"

Kim tried to relax. " _Obviously_ I explained that, but they said I was asking for it in that short pink skirt."

"And they're right! Why can't you ditch the skirt, like that nice friend of yours? The one in yellow?"

"Ugh, she's kind of a square, Mom."

"Go to your room, Kimberly."

Just like that, Kim's mood was lifted. Trini had a gift.

 ** _Wait till your friend Trini joins you in here. Those long legs. You'll get a real lesson then, Kimmy._**

They went, of course, to the Youth Center.

After some reunion hugs, Ernie offered them free smoothies.

"You're going to go out of business this way, Ern," Kim said, though she and Trini always left tips plenty big enough to pay for the free drinks Ernie seemed compelled to constantly offer them.

"You kidding? You two pretty ladies in the window bring in _all_ the business. The boys can't get enough of you! Place hasn't been full since you left."

"Well, mango pineapple for me," said Trini.

There was a pause.

"Kim? What do you want?"

Kim couldn't answer.

 ** _I can't get enough of you. Nobody could. Do you know what every man who looks at you is thinking, Kim? All those little boys you call friends? They're thinking about holding you down like this. Making you scream. It's all they think about._**

"She'll have strawberry banana," Trini said.

Kim saw, as if from another person's point of view, Trini's long arm drape itself over her shoulder. A curtain of black hair separated Kim from Ernie's concerned face, and Trini steered them not towards the high tables by the window, but to one in a corner.

Trini's warm hands covered Kim's.

"Hey. Hey there, Kim. You okay? You with me?"

"Yeah."

Kim shook her head to try to clear it. When she got her bearings, she looked up into Trini's eyes. She was surprised at what she found there. Not the usual smile, or the confusion and worry she might have expected. Trini looked…sad. And somehow older.

She stroked the back of Kim's hand. Like a mother would do.

"Can I come live with you?" Kim blurted.

Trini sighed, then scooched her chair around so she was next to Kim, rather than across from her. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Just…Neither set of parents wants me right now. And they won't stop fighting, not even with their new flings, and I want to stay in a quiet house with nice people for a while. It wouldn't be forever. Maybe just senior year. Even a semester. A couple of months."

"I'm sure they want you at home, Kimmy. They were just worried."

"It's more than that."

Trini was still holding her hand and looking at her intently. Waiting.

"I mean, Dad actually kicked me out. _Get out of this house._ He didn't say forever, but… Can I spend the night tonight at least? Please?"

"Of course."

Ernie served the smoothies. Kim could barely taste hers, and she found she didn't want it anyway. Her stomach felt full of sawdust.

"What made your Dad decide to kick you out, Kim?" asked Trini.

 _Pregnant_ _? You're seventeen, Kimmy! Not even a senior! You want to throw your life away? After everything we've done for you? What is this, a rebellion? Your way of punishing me for leaving your mom? Did she teach you to act like this? I'll call the cops on that fucking Oliver kid._

She would tell Trini. But not here. Not at the Youth Center Juice Bar, with Kidz Bop buzzing through the ancient speakers and teenagers everywhere and Ernie merrily waving from behind the blender.

"Kim," Trini tried again, "You look like you could use some Art Therapy. What do you say?"

Kim grinned. Art Therapy was what Trini called it when they splurged on nail art manicures at the O.P.I. mall kiosk. It had proven particularly effective against feelings of rage about being stood up by the new boy in the green tank top.

"I say I'm saving my money, but I do have two colors of polish in my bag and a friend who knows how to paint little dot flowers."

"Gasp! An interloper! Give me her name!"

"Can't remember. Don't worry about her, she's a weirdo. Dresses like a guy. Should really add a skirt to her outfit."

Kim could have Gilmore Girlsed it with Trini all day – what a _relief_ , what a break from the crushing weight of the past and the future – but a familiar voice interrupted.

"WOW! Lllloooking good, lllladies!"

"Hi, Skull," said Kim, rolling her eyes.

Using his own incredible superpower, Bulk appeared from thin air to join his friend. "Where ya been, girls? You abandon us for a month? Miss me setting the bench press record?"

"You didn't break Jason's record, Bulk," said Trini.

"Technicality. The judge was jealous of me. But most important, you missed the _gun show_." Bulk flexed backwards and forwards.

"Yeah!" echoed Skull, snapping his gum. "The gun show!"

All this was so standard Kim barely noticed it. It was little different from her banter with Trini: just an automatic part of a day at the Youth Center. In fact, being bothered by these two yahoos was so familiar as to be downright pleasant.

The next thing that happened was familiar too: Skull casually slung his arms around the girls' shoulders and leaned in for the next round of peacocking. He'd done it before. A hundred times.

His hot breath hit the shell of Kim's ear. "Whaddaya say later the four of us – "

And she was back there. Stone walls, stone floor, everything cold except Drakkon's breath on her face. His grip was unbreakable. Even out of morph, his arms were steel, his hand was a bear trap on her neck. The green veins pulsed on his face, rising up to that canine grin –

 ** _What do you want to learn today, Kimmy?_**

She panicked.

The next few moments were confusing. She was pretty sure she started the fight, kicking and flailing like a maniac, and she saw Trini deal Bulk a Mantis Kung Fu kick that sent him sprawling across their smoothies, but after that, there was a whole lot of yelling and motion her tired brain couldn't track – Jason and Zack were there? Were they helping her or stopping her? – until the fight was decisively ended by one Thomas K. Oliver, who broke a glass on Skull's face, dropping him like an anvil.

The camera in Kim's mind sputtered and seemed to come back online, with normal sound and speed. Tommy was breathing hard, still in a wide karate stance, staring down at poor Skull, who wasn't moving but did, thank God, appear to be breathing.

Kim's throat hurt. Had she been screaming?

Jason was at Kim's side, fingers lightly resting on her elbow. Zack pulled a table off Bulk and attempted to help him up. Billy stood a few feet away, between the fight and a pack of staring patrons, visibly worrying and flexing his hands helplessly.

Then they were all looking at her.

Where had they come from? Had they arrived together? Just in time to witness her… what had she even done? What had she _said?_

"What in the world was THAT?" cried Ernie.

"We'll pay for the damage, Ernie," said Jason.

"The damage? Forget the glass, somebody call an ambulance!"

Kim watched Tommy's face as he rose from the fighting haze. He met her eyes – there was worry there, but not for Skull. For her.

"He was hurting her," he said. "Right, Kim? You screamed. You said - "

"Tommy!" snapped Jason. "Stop."

"What? Why?"

" _Don't escalate._ "

Kim had never been under the impression that Tommy was the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, and she really worried that he wouldn't take the giant hint in Jason's body language and word choice: It's a Ranger thing, it's important, don't say another word, you showboating idiot.

But Tommy, after a few sputters and a look to Kim, who shook her head, shut his mouth.

"Get her out of here," Jason told Trini. "We'll deal with this. Go now."

Over Ernie's protests, Kim was steered to the door. All that Kung Fu had made Trini's thin arms deceptively muscular, and her pace was merciless.

Kim did look back at the door. All the boys, including Ernie and Bulk, were watching her with varied horrified expressions. In particular, she noted Zack, who looked uniquely young and gut-punched.

Trini opened the car door and haybaled Kim inside. Once she made it around to the driver's seat, she took a second to pull her hair – a wild black mess – out of her eyes and take a few deep breaths before starting the ignition.

"Trini, what did I say?" asked Kim. Her heart was still racing – why couldn't she calm down?

"What do you mean?"

"I don't remember what happened. It's a blur. What did I say?"

Trini looked at her, all kind eyes, and said gently, "A lot."

"Oh my god." Kim gripped the door handle. She seemed to be out of tears, but all her other systems were in overdrive. She felt pulled from every direction. A hiccup leapt out of her throat, as if substituting for the sobs she was too tired to generate.

It wasn't far to Trini's house, and her parents weren't home. Trini whisked Kim up the stairs.

"You've got smoothie all over you," she said. "Let me get you something else to wear…"

She swiftly dove through her closet and came up with something that was, if not pink, at least floral and also not yellow. But…

"Do you have anything long-sleeved?" Kim asked, trying not to reveal the strength it took to keep her voice under control.

"Yeah, but you never wear…" Trini's eyes widened in understanding. Kim never wore long sleeves or pants. Except today.

"How bad is it, Kimmy? Can you show me?"

"Yeah." Kim hiccupped again. "I'm wearing an undershirt, and I need help getting this thing off anyway." Kim was stiffer today than she'd been last night, and had had trouble getting her shirt on in the morning. It would be impossible for her to get it off now herself while keeping her hair clean.

Trini peeled the wet shirt away and gasped at the marks on Kim's arms. "Are those _handprints_?"

"Yeah."

"God, they look like _paint_." She touched them with cool fingertips. "Oh, Kimmy. I'm so sorry." She put a hand over her mouth, then cried, "I knew! I just knew. I saw your face, how you were hesitating, I knew you'd been alone with him… I didn't want to say anything in front of the boys, then I didn't know how to ask when we were alone."

Had Kim ever seen Trini cry before? A tear here and there at a mean word or a disappointment, maybe. And when Ellie died in _Up._

But these were real tears, for her, and suddenly all she wanted was to be better so Trini didn't have to cry for her.

"This means I can stay the night, right?" she asked with forced brightness.

"Yes, yes. As long as you need to. I'll talk to my parents. But Kim, are you… How bad is it? Are you hurt, are you… Have you taken any tests? Seen a doctor? Does Tommy know?"

"Guess he knows now."

BEEP BEEP BEE-BEEP.

It was Trini's communicator.

Kim waited, but Trini just looked at her. "Aren't you going to check it?"

"Where's yours?" Trini asked. "Did Drakkon take your communicator?

"Jason has it."

"Why?"

This time, Kim took Trini's hand. "We agreed he should hang onto it, and my coin, for at least nine months."

BEEP BEEP BEE-BEEP.

"Go," said Kim. "You might be the only one who can – I bet the boys are trapped talking to the police. But don't get killed! Use your Zord!"

Trini looked miserable as she teleported away in a wash of yellow light.

Kim looked around the room. Dolls everywhere. Yikes, she'd forgotten: Trini _did_ have a flaw. Well, better dolls than screaming parents.

She made a little nest for herself beside the bed and waited, watching the light beams from the shutters fade.

 ** _Keep praying. They'll never find you. You're going to die here, Kimberly._**

 ** _…_**

 ** _They'll die trying to save you. We'll put their heads on the bedposts._**

 ** _…_**

 ** _I think I'll leave this Jason alive. Our son will kill him when he's old enough._**

 ****Kim looked up at Lord Drakkon, and even though she knew she was dreaming or hallucinating _(He's in another universe, he can't be in Trini's bedroom, WAKE UP)_ , her body contracted at the sight of him.

The vein pattern on his cheeks continued down his neck and onto his arms. His long black hair hung in his face, casting ugly shadows. His eyes glowed. He was grinning – always grinning at her. A grin of victory. His teeth were long and sharp.

He caught her arm in his vice-grip and hauled her to her feet. _Another handprint_ , she thought numbly.

 **"** ** _Little fool,"_** he said. **_"You think you escaped? You think that helpless tech support boy carried you out of my world against my will? You think you can keep my son from me?"_**

He yanked her forward, lifted her camisole, and ran his hand over her smooth stomach. His hand was huge and rough. He let his fingers dig in just a little.

 ** _"You're right where I want you."_**

"Kim!"

The lights came on.

Trini looked exhausted. She was morphed, holding her helmet, and her costume was badly gashed. "Don't worry," she said instantly. "We won. Kim, what were you doing?"

Kim looked around. She was standing in the middle of the room, knees bent, one arm out in a self defense stance. Drakkon wasn't here. He never had been.

Trini demorphed. "Come here," she said. "You're not sleeping on the floor."

She grabbed a hideous doll off the shelf and crawled up on top of the purple bedspread. She motioned for Kim to join her, and Kim did, **_(Wait till your friend Trini joins you in here)_** gingerly working to avoid putting weight on her wounds. Trini reached across her to turn out the light.

"I know I'm a guest," Kim said, "But just so you know, I have an opinion on that ugly little elf sleeping with us."

"Mr. Ticklesneezer? He's my favorite!"

"I just feel like if I never see another man again, it'll be too soon."

Trini gently tossed Mr. Ticklesneezer to the floor before saying, with slightly too much emphasis, "I've felt like that before."

Oh.

Crap.

Kim faced her in the dark. "Hashtag you, too, huh? When? Who? Trini, why didn't you tell me?"

"It was before I met you."

Kim wanted to take her friend in her arms, but she was the short one, so she snuggled as close as she could and rested her head on Trini's chest. "Tell me."

They talked for hours, and talking about it didn't hurt like it had with Jason or with Kim's parents.

Kim slept without any more nightmares.


	4. Zack

Zack was a man of action. That was why he danced: too much energy, never enough to do. He was miserable and loud when there wasn't a plan, and as soon as there was one, he was first in line to make it happen. It didn't much matter what the plan was, as long as he was able to act. For example, he'd been the first to reject Zordon's offer and walk out on their recruitment day; minutes later, he'd been the first to morph.

He just couldn't be idle. So Kim anticipated, with some nervousness, that now that he knew about her situation, he would need to get involved. Sure enough, the next day she found a series of texts from him – awkwardly unspecific, bright, and casual – first offering any sort of help she needed, then more or less begging her to meet up with him.

No texts from Tommy. According to Jason, he'd had his phone confiscated and was in some kind of juvenile lockup, though no charges had yet been filed.

Kim declined Trini's offer to join her and Zack in the park. After yesterday's disaster, she felt like one-on-one was about the limit of her comfort zone.

Turned out, Kim didn't even have to limp onto the sidewalk before finding evidence that Zack had been busy.

Bulk and Skull were standing there as if they'd been waiting for her, and were apparently engaged in a competition to see who could look more terrified and contrite. Bulk was wide eyed, shiny with fear-sweat, and the half of Skull's face that wasn't bandaged was grey and rigid.

"Hey, guys," Kim said nervously. "Sorry about yest-"

"NO!" yelped Bulk, as if he'd been pinched. "WE are sorry. Our actions were…" His eyes rolled up as he tried to remember words that clearly weren't his own. "Obnoxious and pre…sump…tuous?"

"Presumptuous!" Skull agreed.

"We harassed you! Him especially!" cried Bulk, pointing.

"Me especially!" Skull barked. "Sorry, Kimberly, sorry. I mean…" His voice weakened into an almost-normal, unaffected cadence she hadn't ever heard him produce before. "I'm _really_ sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It won't happen again. Ever. And not just because Zack said he would OOF!"

Bulk had elbowed him in the stomach.

"And," Skull gasped on, "I'm not pressing charges against Tommy or anything. He was right. I deserved this." He indicated his head wound with a gesture that was unfortunately similar to the 'crazy' finger spin. "Thank you. Him. I…I appreciate it!"

The poor bastards.

They couldn't know it, but Kim had, over the past six weeks, developed an incredible respect for them. Their counterparts in the Coinless universe had, by all accounts, been no different than these bragging, oafish punks before their world had been crushed under Drakkon's heel.

In the hopeless war that followed, their ridiculous personas had melted away, revealing a set of sterling, honest-to-god heroes.

Bulk had put his money where his mouth was in field combat, saving hundreds of lives and becoming a general in the rebel army. Skull had taken the less glamorous but more useful and difficult position of spy in Drakkon's sentry army. He had kept the Coinless camp prepared for every would-be surprise attack, and he had been responsible for getting out the intel that saved Kimberly.

And he'd died for it. Bravely. Spitting in Drakkon's face.

"All is forgiven," said Kim. "I shouldn't have freaked, I know you guys didn't mean any harm. Just going through something right now. Maybe we _will_ hang out sometime, huh? Once I've, like, gotten some therapy for my issues?"

Bulk and Skull looked at each other. They had some kind of conversation in the weird language only they understood – nodding and head-shaking and eyebrow waving – and Bulk squeaked, "Maybe. Yeah. Probably not, but maybe. Bye!"

And they were gone, all but leaving a puff of cartoon dust in their wake.

It was a short walk to the park, but any distance was a challenge with the boot. Zack saw her coming from two blocks off and ran to meet her.

"Girl, who are you kidding?" he said upon meeting her. He turned around and motioned with his hand. "Come on, it's leg day."

Kim wasn't sure this was the best idea, but she thought humoring him was the best plan for now, so she climbed on his back. He clamped his hands under her knees, leaned forward, and said, "Hope you put your tray table up!" And they were off.

The clean wind in Kim's hair felt great. Zack was really booking it. He was pretty good at pretending it was no effort even though it was uphill and she knew she wasn't all _that_ light. They arrived at a plastic table by a tree that had been one of the Ranger teens' favorite picnic spots back when they'd had enough free time for picnics.

"Table or booth?" he asked in a hoity-toity accent.

"I prefer the swings."

"You got it, ma'am."

Fortunately, the playground was empty. Zack plopped her down and took the swing beside her. They immediately began to swing, but Kim sighed, reached out, and stopped Zack.

"How much do you really know?" she asked. "It's okay, I gave Jason permission to say as much as he needed to."

"Yeah. He kind of had to talk to us after the show last night. I mean, no details, just the facts, ma'am, but he told us what Drakkon did to you."

He choked out an ugly laugh. "Always Tommy. Guy can't stop causing trouble."

"Hey. You know, _you've_ had an evil twin before."

Zack began to spin, letting the chains wrap and kink into a thick rope. He was attempting a smile, but his mouth and eyes were set in a way that made him look tired. Haggard.

"What's wrong, Zack?"

"What's…? Nothing, with me! It's you!"

"You don't need to feel sorry for me."

"I'll be sorry for the rest of my life," said Zack. He lifted his feet and let the swing whirl him around.

Kim was catching on that there was more going on here than she had thought. She started to swing again, carefully keeping her broken foot from brushing the ground.

"Jason's talking about replacing you!" Zack burst out. "Did you know that? Some blonde chick, she's not even American. Australian or something."

Wow. That hadn't taken long.

"You need a Pink Ranger," Kim said faintly.

"Yeah. We have one. It can't go down this way, Kim."

"What do you mean?"

"Can't you just… Why would you…keep it?" He hopped free of his swing, walking restlessly and punching into one open hand in a nervous pseudo dance move.

Kim set her teeth. "I have my reasons."

"Drakkon's messed with your head. If you were thinking straight –"

"I'm fine."

"You're not! Were you fine yesterday, screaming your head off in the Youth Center? You've got to get some perspective here! We need you!"

Kim wondered if it was too early to text Trini for another rescue.

Zack was almost yelling now. _"You can't let me ruin your life!"_

What?

"Um. Zack. You?" Kim looked side to side, trying to force a giggle, although his behavior wasn't funny to her at all. "Maybe you slept through one too many biology classes. Pretty sure you had nothing to do with this."

He dropped his hands. All the air went out of him. "But I did. You know that. It was my fault."

Kim shook her head. "I'm not sure what you're-"

"You don't have to pretend. We both know what happened."

Kim didn't. But she had a guess.

"Zack," she said carefully, "I don't remember anything about getting captured. The first few days after we left the Coinless camp are just a blur. Were you there? Did you see it?"

He nodded. He looked like a little kid.

"Jason put me in charge of your and my raid," he said. "My own little side mission. He knows I kind of wanted to be leader. You didn't complain. Boy, you should have. You really don't remember?"

She shook her head. "Do I want to?"

He fished around in his shirt collar and pulled out the necklace he always wore. But when he extended it so she could see it, she realized the charm wasn't his usual gold rectangle. Instead, it was jagged and pink.

"Recognize it?"

"Maybe," she said. "The paint… is that a piece of my Zord?"

"Kim, it's no wonder you don't remember what happened. I messed up so badly, trying to show off and do everything myself. You ended up having to fly in to get my Mastodon out of a mud trap, and by then they knew you were coming. They brought you down _hard_. You're lucky to be alive. This is shrapnel from the crash. Landed in my helmet _through the windshield._ All I could do was watch from my cockpit while they pulled you out."

He put the necklace back in his shirt, sagged back in the swing, and continued. Kim could tell he'd had this story eating away inside him for a while.

"Drakkon ripped the coin out of your belt while you were on the ground. Your suit disappeared. You were all alone out there, no weapons, nothing, could barely even move. He was standing over you, and I swear he turned to look at me. Like _watch this, Zack._ I thought he was gonna kill you in front of me. Damn, it was scary. You looked…"

He glanced at her and looked away quickly.

"…tiny. He carried you off, and I couldn't do a thing. I've been wearing this ever since, said I'd wear it till we got you back home safe. Been hoping you were just a hostage, sitting in jail, bored. Thought maybe we were keeping Drakkon busy enough that he'd leave you alone. Wishful thinking, huh?"

Poor Zack.

"Have you told anybody else this?" Kim asked.

Zack hung his head. "Nah. But I thought you should know. Well, I thought you knew anyway, but you should know because…"

He spun in the swing, leaned over, and turned her to face him.

"Anything you need. _Anything_. Place to stay? Food? Money? I can get money. Somebody to…step up? Help raise the kid?"

"Violent threats toward harmless buffoons?"

Zack laughed. "That was for their own good. They may be harmless, but they should know better than to creep the way they do."

"You don't owe me anything, Zack."

"Ask me a favor anyway. Come on, it'll make me feel better."

Kim sighed. "Could use a push?"

"Done."

He pushed her in the swing for a while. She hoped some of his excess energy would wear off from it.

She could see half of Angel Grove from here. It had been a beautiful city a few years ago, and in many ways it still was, but there was a lot of construction now. It would never be finished. One building went up, another went down under a monster's foot.

At least it was better than what it had become in the Coinless Universe. There was still a high school, a mall, traffic lights. People going about their daily lives. Like she would go about hers, under the protection of the Power Rangers. It would be okay.

THWIP.

"Ow!" she yelped.

"You okay?"

Something had hit her in the ear! A bee? It stung like one.

She looked around, and at the top of her arc she saw, in shadow by a clump of bushes…

"Zack?"

It was the Black Ranger. Looking at her. From fifty feet away. Kim squealed and tried to stop the swing – who the hell was behind her?

"Whoa!" said Zack, catching her. "Too high?"

Kim pointed. The Black Ranger stepped into full view. There was extra armor plating around his chest, and he carried a plasma machine gun.

"A sentry!" Zack cried.

It shouldn't have been possible. As far as they knew, no one from Drakkon's world had traveled into their own. The significance of seeing one of his people here whooshed over Kim like a tidal wave, temporarily blinding and deafening her.

 ** _You think you can keep my son from me? You're right where I want you._**

She turned; Zack had already morphed. He went for his communicator - _BAM!_ A supercharged plasma slug slammed into Zack's wrist, exploding the comm unit and leaving his glove a charred, sparking mess.

But the sentry hadn't fired...

"There's another one!" Zack said.

There were actually three. No, five.

 ** _Fight all you want, Pink. There's no way out._**

"Where are they coming from?" she cried.

They were converging.

"Get behind me, Kim!"

She crouched between Zack and the tree. "Three more," she said automatically. "On your five, six, and seven."

"Remember, don't kill the girl," one of the sentries called. "He wants her alive."

"Kim, duck!" cried Zack.

She ducked.

The sentries fired on him.

Damn. Zack must have taken his failure to heart, because he was obviously making up for it as hard as he could now. She had _never_ seen him fight like this.

His axe whirled around them in a blur, deflecting the slugs and even ricocheting one back on its owner. Then the Blade Blaster came out. Zack's eye was good and he wasn't holding back. Three shots; three more sentries went down, two of them certainly dead.

Then the axe flew like a boomerang; two Black Ranger helmets thudded to the ground, heavy with the heads still inside them.

More sentries were coming, but they weren't blind or stupid; they slowed down quite a bit.

Kim clutched at Zack's costume. "I can't go back."

His free arm came down and pinned her to his side. "You're not going anywhere."

VWARP. The Blue, Red, and Yellow Rangers arrived.

Trini engaged instantly; Billy took off for parts unknown, crying, "I can disable their portal triangulation if I can find the interdimensional projector!"; Jason used his sword to deflect a volley while yelling at Zack: "Zordon can't teleport her out for some reason. Alpha's on it. Take her, Zack. We got these."

For the second time in three days, Kim found herself riding in a Ranger's arms. Zack adjusted her into Koala position on his chest and took off; she could see the fight unfolding over his shoulder. Two dozen more sentries at least.

Zack flew; they were downtown in no time, then in the warehouse district. As Rangers, they purposely led many fights here, where there were few civilians and plenty of cover.

There was a small alcove in a brick wall; Zack set her down there, peeling her arms off his shoulders carefully, and he touched her face with a gloved hand. "Kim?"

She couldn't talk. It was taking every piece of her sanity and focus to keep from sobbing.

"What the-"

He ran his finger along her earlobe, which still stung.

"There's a chip here, Kim. Embedded in your skin. Must be what's keeping you from teleporting. Let me – "

"It's also a tracker," said a female voice. There was an enormous CRACK and a wave of intense heat; Zack cried out in pain as he was thrown against Kim.

He turned, stumbling, but striving to stay upright, and braced himself at the opening of the alcove, hands and feet splayed against the wall. His back was charred. Under his arm, Kim could see that he was all that stood between her and a half dozen Yellow sentries, all armed with wide-beam laser pistols.

"He's alone," said the tallest of them. "The others are occupied. Burn him."

He only got off one shot with his Blade Blaster before they fired – this time, not just one CRACK, but a chattering onslaught of them.

Zack began screaming. The smell of his roasting flesh filled the alcove.

He didn't move an inch.

Ten seconds, ten seconds of absolute hell, watching her friend burn for her – the longest ten seconds of her life – and then it all stopped with a dull, bone-shaking slam, the sound of a meteorite hitting the earth at top speed.

All that was left of the sentries was some red slime oozing out from under the foot of the Dragonzord.

Zack collapsed.

Kim caught him, tried to speak to him. His costume was scalding hot. He was shaking, and there was smoke coming from under his helmet. Desperate, Kim jammed a finger into his belt buckle – that instant of contact was enough to burn her – and demorphed him.

Oh, thank God. She had thought he'd been cooked alive, but the suit had taken the worst of it. There _were_ burns at all the weak spots – the shoulders, the neck, the elbows – but his head and torso were okay. He would live.

She held Zack clutched to her chest, listening to him try to breathe, hating the heat that rose off him in waves. Ironically, he began shuddering as if he were cold.

"You saved me, Zack," she whispered. "You saved me, okay? You did it."

He nodded. Though his eyes were open, she soon became sure he couldn't see her, and he didn't speak – just gritted his teeth.

The Dragonzord took off, heading towards the park, where Kim could see high explosions rising. Damn it.

At least Angel Grove General had a legitimate fleet of ambulances available. Kim called 911.

She held Zack while they waited, whispering in his ear and rocking him, and she held his hand in the ambulance. He gave her a goodbye squeeze once a team of ER nurses finally ordered her out of his hospital room.

They worked on him a little over an hour, a long hour in which Kim alternated between worrying about the outcome of the Ranger fight, worrying about Zack, and worrying about herself. The chip in her ear had dug itself in deep; she couldn't get it out with her fingers.

When the nurses gave her permission, Kim rushed in to sit by Zack's head. He reached up weakly, took her hand, and kissed the back of it.

"Can you talk?" she whispered. "They wouldn't tell me anything 'cause I'm not family."

"You got it," he said with a drugged smile, and he hacked a weak cough.

There was damage to his lungs and eyes; he'd inhaled lots of smoke, and would certainly have died if Kim had waited much longer to get his helmet off. Prognosis was that he'd be coughing and laryngitic for a while. The burns weren't as bad as they looked: second degree, not first. All but the worst would be fine in a few weeks.

"The worst" included a jagged, raw red circle around Zack's neck. His metal necklace and the twisted bit of Zord hull hanging from it had burned red-hot, branding their shapes deep into his skin. He would have those scars for the rest of his life.


	5. Tommy

It wasn't that Tommy looked like Drakkon. He honestly didn't; nobody in the world would mistake one for the other if they stood side by side. Tommy was far slimmer and younger, with relaxed posture and a ponytail, and he had none of the craggy facial damage that Drakkon had acquired over ten extra years of hard living – and that was before taking into account the stubble and the green pulsing veins.

But the _voice_. Just like Drakkon's. Disturbingly so. Low and breathy – like he was always revealing a good secret.

So when Kim, who had her forehead pressed to the wall in the hospital hallway as she tried to process the day's events, heard from directly behind her, "Kim, you can't avoid me forever" in _that voice_ , she spun and backed up, arms up in the "stop" position, before her brain caught up with her instincts.

"Whoa," said Tommy. "Easy. Just me."

He was unmorphed. A good sign. It meant the fight was over. But he wasn't smiling.

She swallowed.

"Could we go somewhere private?" he asked.

Wow. She was surprised at how much she really didn't want to do that. "We should stay by Zack."

"Zack's going to be fine. Zordon said so."

She didn't move.

"Do you know what the last day's been like for me, Kim? Give me a break here. Come on."

He gave her a little pull by the elbow. Not hard, not harsh, nothing she couldn't have broken free from – but firm. There was frustration there. Maybe the _desire_ to yank her down the hall.

A month ago she would never have noticed such a little thing.

She let herself be led. He was going a little too fast for her; she was still limping in the boot. As she felt herself getting further from possible witnesses, more and more alone with him, some dark thoughts she'd been avoiding came leaping back at her.

How long had she known Tommy, really? Six, seven months? Half of their time together was spent in morph, and most of the remainder was with the group. They'd only been on four or five real dates.

The last three of those dates had ended in kisses; the last one, in making out. Kim had enjoyed it. Had thought about taking it further someday. Maybe. Slowly. There was no doubt: Tommy Oliver was attractive.

But _who was he?_

She knew only the barest facts of his life. He was seventeen. His parents were together, unlike hers. They moved all the time; Tommy had never lived anywhere more than two years, and he'd spent a good chunk of his life in Europe. He liked karate. Boy, did he ever. He'd been chosen by Rita Repulsa for brainwashing due to his ass-kicking talent, and possibly also due to his competition with Jason. He was late to school a lot, but otherwise a good student. Liked green.

And…

He was dangerous.

It was part of his attraction. The unpredictability, the impulsiveness. He had a little temper. His big sweet smile sometimes dissolved into a snarl. He had no qualms about solving problems with violence if he could get away with it.

And in at least one universe, he was Space Hitler.

She knew him well enough to be confident he wasn't going to tornado kick her today. But she found she had no idea what she _did_ expect from him.

They were now in a mostly walled-off waiting room, alone. To Kim's alarm, Tommy didn't just release her arm; he added a little force to the release, as if throwing her off.

"Something you want to tell me?" he said.

In Drakkon's voice. God, why would this nightmare not end?

"Didn't Jason talk to you?" Kim said.

" _Jason?_ " Okay, that was real venom. She wasn't imagining it – he was _pissed._ "What the hell would _Jason_ and I have to talk about right now?"

Kim realized that Tommy had placed her with her back to a wall again. She wanted to retreat, but there was nowhere to go.

"Tommy, you're scaring me."

" _I'm_ scaring _you?_ "

"Yes! Please take a step back."

He didn't.

"Please."

A few beats longer, and he finally rocked back about six inches – enough that Kim felt able to breathe again.

"I spent last night in a holding cell because I was trying to defend you," he said. "I don't even know from what, I got there last and nobody told me anything, I just saw you fighting with Skull and screaming, but whatever, I did the boyfriend thing and got arrested for it. Thanks for checking on me, by the way. And first thing when I get out and get my phone back, I've got thirty missed calls from my parents. I thought it was because they cared I was arrested, but it got better. Turns out your dad called and told them –"

He lowered his voice.

"For some reason he told them my girlfriend is _pregnant_. Which I thought really shouldn't be possible, but, hey, maybe I should ask _Jason_ how that works?"

Holy shit.

"AND I couldn't even deal with any of that because Angel Grove was suddenly full of ranger sentries and you all needed me to come save your asses _again_. But I guess maybe now I know what keeps you guys so busy that you couldn't save the world from a goddamn baby seal without my help!"

BEEP BEEP BEE-BEEP.

Tommy stared at her, breathing hard. He was still standing too close.

His communicator beeped again. He braced his hand on the wall by Kim's head and looked at the device.

"What if I don't answer it?" he said. "What if I sit this one out? Let the real heroes handle it, since they're such good friends?"

"Tommy," said Kim. "You know what, you're right, you're obviously not my friend. But if I was yours, I'd tell you to shut your stupid mouth before you say anything else you'll regret."

"Hey, maybe right now you're not in the best position to be calling other people stupid," he said.

He clicked the comm button. "Come in."

"Tommy!" It was Billy's voice. "Are you with Kim?"

"Yeah, I found her."

"You've got to get her to a safe location till we can verify we've cleared the area. I've disabled the portal generator, so the dimensional rift is closed, but we don't know how many got through."

"Copy," Tommy said. Then, to Kim: "You heard the man. Safe location. How about the Dragonzord cockpit?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

She ducked under his arm, attempting to limp away with dignity. He grabbed at her elbow, and she smacked his hand off. When he grabbed at her a second time, she'd fucking had it. She spun.

"Don't you ever touch me again. I think I'll call _Jason_ to pick me up, Tommy. Maybe I'd feel safer with him."

"Apparently you always have."

"Shut up, Tommy!"

"Or WHAT?" he yelled. "What are you going to do to me? Stab me in the back again? Hey, I know. Maybe you'll call your _real_ boyfriend. And when he gets his ass kicked like always, instead of calling me for help, he can call you!"

" _It's not Jason's baby, you moron!"_

Tommy faltered, but recovered and summoned a scoff. Kim got more than a little perverse pleasure by ramming the point home with, "It's Drakkon's. Okay?"

Tommy blinked. Closed his mouth, opened it, closed it. Not good enough. Kim twisted the knife.

"But you know what, Tommy? I really think that if Jason was in your position he wouldn't have acted like this. He wouldn't have needed to intimidate me, because he's not an insecure showoff. That's why he's the leader and you're the one nobody trusts. I see where Drakkon gets it."

She stared up at him, hoping to see…what? What did she want him to do? Cry? Beg for forgiveness?

He did neither: just looked at her. His face seemed to be frozen; the only change was in his color, which had drained. Was he thinking? Did he even understand what she'd said? Maybe not. After all, if his brain was firing all cylinders, he'd have figured this out days ago.

As she limped off, she immediately felt cruel and unreasonable. All five of them had kept Tommy out of the loop, some unintentionally, some not so much. She'd told him she was fine. Hell, maybe he was such a nice guy that he couldn't imagine a pregnancy resulting from anything other than romance. He had every reason to be hurt. To lash out.

 _You're going to need all your friends, Kim_ , her common sense nagged. _Don't be proud. Want to end up like your parents?_

Fuck.

But how could she turn around now? She was already at the double automatic doors, and then out in the bright California sun. The air could have been clearer – what could you expect after a laser cannon fight? – but she was free and nobody was talking to her.

Alone at freaking last.

No men to burden her with their endless needs: to hurt her or to feel sorry for her or tell her they loved her or felt guilty about her or were mad at her. No parents to judge. Not even Trini, to treat her like glass. Nobody in her personal space.

"Kim. Stop."

Ugh, he'd followed her.

"Not now. Tomorrow, Tommy, okay?"

"Yes, now. I'm not him, Kim."

Jeez. Kim stopped on the sidewalk, willing her face into a neutral expression. It wasn't productive. She was forced to close her eyes to keep the tears back.

She said, "I know, Tommy. You're nothing like Drakkon. I shouldn't have said that."

His hand settled on her shoulder.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear," he said. "I meant: I'm not Tommy."

And she was back, face against the stone, freezing, his teeth at her neck, his hands around her ribcage…

"No!" she said. "This isn't real."

She opened her eyes. It was broad daylight in Angel Grove. Cheerful colors popped around her – the plush grass, the wide, curvy sidewalk, the shiny cars, a stop sign. Drakkon couldn't exist in this world. This was home. She was safe here. She'd left him back in the darkness.

But the hand on her shoulder squeezed, working its fingers into the tender tissue between her clavicle and her shoulder blade.

"Scream," Drakkon said. "Come on."

She was trying to. Nothing was coming out.

Like in a nightmare, her feet seemed to get heavier when she ordered them to run.

"Nothing?" he asked. He lifted her a little, let the grip on her shoulder really bite. A small, rasping shriek escaped, and her feet waved, but she couldn't make her body do more. It had been through too much; at this new horror, it had apparently stopped taking orders from her brain.

"Disappointing, Pink. You've forgotten everything I taught you. Good thing your friends are busy chasing down my soldiers. We can review. First lesson: Following directions."

He dropped her; she collapsed, gasping, and turned on the ground. There he was, Lord Drakkon, huge and alien, contrasting surreally with the normality of his environment. He was in full morph, and seemed to have added extra equipment to his already-enhanced suit.

"You like it?" he said. "I can travel through dimensions at will with it. No external support needed. Nothing for your friends to disable. For you, though…" he extended an arm to the side. From a thick wrist bracer, a triangle of darkness appeared, projecting a dark oval in the air. Through it, Kim could see the grey skyline of Drakkon's world. "An easier way to fly. Get inside, Kimmy."

Her body locked. It wanted to obey him. This was part of what he'd done to her – conditioning obedience.

"Stand."

She dragged herself upright, crying silently.

"Step through the portal," he said.

Waves of misery crashed over her. She couldn't breathe. She took a step, retreated, took another step.

"Remember what happens when you make me wait?"

Boy, she sure did.

"That's right, Kimmy. Good girl."

She was at the dimensional portal. Angel Grove was only a thin frame now for the huge portrait of a doomed world floating in front of her, which Kim miserably, inexorably placed a foot into.

"One more step. Don't make me push you."

WHAM.

She was almost halfway between her world and Drakkon's when the portal collapsed; for a few terrible, confusing seconds, she slammed back and forth between the two realities – all darkness, all light, freezing, hot, stone, grass.

But Angel Grove won.

The grass beneath her was warm and soft, and she seriously considered just lying down in it and taking a nap instead of pulling herself back to reality.

It took more courage than it would have for her to fly her Zord into battle, but she shook off the weariness and turned to see what had happened.

Tommy, morphed, with his golden shield glinting so bright it hurt to look at him, was fighting Drakkon. Their identical green daggers clashed at strobe speed. Usually Tommy's fights were noisy, full of _kiais_ and grunts, but there was little of that now; the blades and limbs were moving too quickly for anyone to have extra breath.

And Tommy was losing.

Anyone could see it: Though he was at his best, mad and putting up a hell of a fight, he was up against a larger, better-armored, more experienced version of himself. Already he was losing ground, inch by inch.

He tried to regain it with a spin kick; Drakkon deflected it, knocking him down.

"You can't protect her, Oliver," said Drakkon. "Just ask her."

"Kim, RUN!" cried Tommy.

"She can't even walk," laughed Drakkon. "Guessing she didn't have that problem much with you, Tommy?"

And Tommy, the valiant idiot, did exactly what he was being goaded to do: lose control. He leapt to his feet and attacked with both arms raised, exposing his chest and waist. The fight was quick and brutal from there; Tommy was slashed six different ways by Drakkon's dagger, and he went down in a shower of sparks.

Fury boiled in Kimberly.

How many people were going to have to get hurt for her? To cry for her, fight for her, die for her?

Drakkon grabbed Tommy by the helmet and held his dagger in throat-slitting position.

"Be thankful, Oliver," he whispered. "It'll be quick. Your girlfriend won't be so lucky. If you'd chosen my path, maybe you'd have been strong enough to protect her."

"If he'd chosen your path," said Jason's voice from behind Kim, "he'd be alone."

And four Blade Blaster bolts hit Drakkon square in the chest, knocking him back twenty feet.

Kim whirled. They were all there. Including Zack, whose drunken swaying told her he was in no condition to fight, but who nevertheless threw her a little wave.

Drakkon stood; made a fist; wavered.

"This feels familiar," he said. "Haven't I killed you once already, Red Ranger?"

"Yeah, must have been tough, taking an unconscious guy by surprise."

Jason raised his sword; the others materialized their weapons.

"I can jump between dimensions!" Drakkon said. "You can't protect her forever."

"Maybe not," said Jason. "So why don't you take us all on now and get it over with?"

The Rangers leapt forward, forming a protective barrier between Kim and Drakkon; Tommy was on his feet, and he joined them, standing directly in front of her.

"Your sentries are gone. Their teleportation equipment is destroyed," said Billy. "You can't call a Zord here."

"Sure you want to try one against five?" added Trini.

"Or six?" said Zack.

Laughing – genuinely laughing, she hardly knew why – Kim raised her fists and bent her knees.

Drakkon vanished, leaving a green broken glass pattern crackling in the air where he'd been.

The aftermath of the short battle was predictable: lots of hugs, lots of questions, lots of concern and offers of help. Billy, as usual, was able to provide the most practical support: he removed the chip from Kim's ear, allowing her to be teleported to the Command Center. Under Jason's orders, she would have to stay there at least a few days: long enough for them to regroup, gather information, and determine how best to protect Kim.

Jason didn't say what Kim knew he had to be thinking: The best way to protect her was to kill Drakkon and repair the Grid, and for that, they would need a Pink Ranger. Somebody new.

Well, she trusted his judgment. Now and forever. She trusted all of them, and loved them so hard it hurt.

In a few hours, she found herself alone in the control room with Zordon for the first time since she'd been back, and she said, "I guess I always thought you had good taste in Power Rangers. Now I know it. They really are just the best, aren't they?"

"SO ARE YOU, KIMBERLY," intoned Zordon. "YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THERE FOR THEM."

Kim smiled. She didn't remember being as good a friend to Billy, Jason, Trini, or Zack as they'd been to her, but it was comforting to think that, had the situation called for it, maybe she would have been.

Alpha came in. "Kim-ber-lee, someone would like to speak to you."

She wasn't at all surprised. The others had teleported out one by one a while ago – Jason last, after sharing a significant look with her but not saying anything that, well, couldn't be said in front of Zordon – but she'd somehow missed Tommy's exit.

He entered at an awkward pace, once again out of morph, and looking very much like he had the first day she'd met him. Green plaid hoodie, rope necklace, slightly lost expression – an average high school boy looking for a friendly face in an unfamiliar situation.

Kim crossed to him and hugged him hard.

"How can you forgive me for talking to you like that?" he asked the top of her head.

 _I was just as mean to you. You didn't know. You're a big bonehead and that's what made you brave enough to go out there and try to kill and die for me today. You're young and stupid like the rest of us. You're hurting almost as much as I am. I need you._

"Lots of reasons," she said.

"I'm guessing none of the others yelled at you."

"Don't worry, Tommy. Someday one of them will make a mistake. Like…use a #1 pencil."

He smiled, catching on. "Stand up before the bell rings?"

"Not gargle for the _full_ thirty seconds?"

He held her tighter and stroked her hair. "I'm not one of them. One of you. I wasn't picked for being perfect. But you know I would never hurt you, right, Kim? I'm not him."

Drakkon's exact words, in Drakkon's voice. Kim waited for fear to rush down her spine, but it didn't.

"I know," she said.

"Are we still…? What happens now, Kim? I have no idea. Tell me what to do."

She let him go. This, she was sure about. "Tommy, I love you. But I can't. We can't. I can't handle a boyfriend right now."

His expression was a mess as he processed this: She saw every emotion there, from bitter disappointment to love.

"I understand," he said at last, though she knew darn well he didn't. Emotional intelligence was never going to be his forte.

He took a deep breath, then kissed her forehead and each of her cheeks. Then, to her surprise, he knelt in front of her and kissed her bellybutton through her shirt. Her breath caught; a sob, half bitter and half joyful, rose in her throat.

"You're strong enough to get through this, Kim," said Tommy. "You're gonna be a great mom."

"Maybe," she said. "But if I'm ever not, this kid is going to have the best set of aunts and uncles anybody could ask for."

After a while, Tommy had to leave; it was late, and he was already in deep shit with his parents.

Kim found herself, for the first time in a month, feeling…

Good.

Okay.

Not afraid, not drained, not ashamed.

She touched her stomach.

"What are you thinking, Kim-ber-lee?" asked Alpha, who had discreetly disappeared some time back, but now popped out of a corner.

"Names. Too many people to name this kid after. It's going to be hard to decide."

"I'm sure whatever you choose will be just right."

Kim agreed. Somehow, in time, with her friends' help, everything was going to be alright.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Always review. XOXO -darkwinggirl


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